


The Inns and Outs of Love

by TheDoctorAteMyShoe



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Rival Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorAteMyShoe/pseuds/TheDoctorAteMyShoe
Summary: Rose's life is about to be turned upside down when a new owner buys part of her family Inn's property. What starts as an innocent mistake quickly turns them into bitter rivals. Co-ownership is nightmare enough, too bad the new co-owner is gorgeous. And he knows it.





	1. Tempest Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> If I don't just publish this, it will never see the light of day. I've been working on this for years, so now I'm going to put it out there and hope it'll find an audience. I have no beta, mistakes are all mine. This is a work in progress but I promise to finish and have most written. Please note the rating may change to Explicit as the work progresses.

Life was about to change for Rose. Like all change that happened, people talked of it with such optimism that she could have sworn rainbows were shooting out of their arse. It wasn’t that Rose was a pessimist, not really. It was simply that changing the things she loved never brought about improvements. Both her mother and father had passed away when Rose was eleven years old. She moved from their small cottage in the farm lands of Essex and in with her Grandfather Wilf who lived in a small attachment off his large inn property in East Sussex. Those changes were life-altering bad, so Rose couldn’t help but look at change with disdain. 

Rose and her grandfather had been forced to sell part of the property to pay off the debt of running his the large estate due to the waning tourist population. Forty years of running a successful get away had worn the aging property and the regular patrons were becoming elderly. With a sad eyes and an optimistic smile, Wilf had agreed to sell the portion of the property that also housed the larger and somewhat prettier of the two buildings. 

What had once been a large property with two separate inn buildings had now become two separate entities. The new owner had promised to work together for joint promotion and property maintenance, which under the circumstances was more than generous. They certainly could have landed with a worse partner. Still, that held little importance to Rose as she was certain this new prat brought change and upheaval. Rose didn’t like it one bit and she already had it out for him. 

Rose watched with a scowl as from the Prentice Inn front door window waiting for the new partner’s arrival. Speak of the devil, Rose thought as the new owner drove up in the latest BWM model in a royal blue. He tore up the dirt road with such a callous disregard that it made Rose’s jaw clench. She studied him as he stepped out of the expensive car with a swagger that told Rose he was certainly arrogant. His brown suit was fitted well (obviously tailored), and the bright blue stripes suggested it was an original piece. Paired with his aviator sunglasses he was certainly a sight to behold. She stared momentarily at his lovely arse before chastising herself. He was not sexy. Definitely not sexy.

Her sweet pet pig, River, ran to greet him and rubbed her mud-crusted self all over his leg. Rose busted out laughing as he grimaced and made multiple attempts to push the pig away. Digging through his pockets he let out a cry of success as he tossed a banana far away from him and the pig gleefully ran after it. 

“Always bring a banana!” he crowed with glee to no one in particular.

Rose’s scowl promptly returned and she narrowed her eyes. Grandad Wilf came around from the side of the house and gave the Pretty Boy a kind welcome. Pretty Boy’s eyes warmed considerably and he broke into a wide grin. He removed his sunglasses, shook his hand, and then happily accepted Granddad’s hug. She would never admit it but when he smiled her heart had actually skipped a beat. 

Rose overheard part of the conversation faintly from her hiding spot.

“Let me find her,” Wilf said before yelling for her and making Rose jump. 

The movement gained Pretty Boy’s attention and he saw her staring from the window. His grin widened and Rose knew she’d been caught snooping. She inhaled and lifted her chin up with slight defiance, and opened the door. Time to meet the man responsible for destroying the only true home she’d ever really known. 

 

Rose wasn’t positive, but it almost seemed as though Pretty Boy’s face lit up when he saw Rose, he offered his hand and a charming smile. Wilf had stepped away to grab the keys and documents to the sister Inn. She shook he hand with as firm of a grip and she could muster, suppressing a smug grin when he winced. 

 

“My name is John, John Smith, nice to meet you….?”

“Rose Tyler.” She smiled and quickly broke eye contact with him. She felt heat on her cheeks, wait…was she blushing? She couldn’t be blushing, no certainly not. It was just hot outside she reassured herself. 

“Rose Tyler,” he said rolling her name of his tongue in a way that made Rose’s stomach tighten and her mind start wandering to very graphic and very dirty images. 

She shook herself out it - what was she thinking? This man was the very thing ripping apart her home, he was the enemy. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

 

“My friends call me John. Weeeell, actually they call me ‘The Doctor.’ My really good friends though call me ‘Master’.” 

He winked at her and Rose felt her cheeks betray her by blushing at the innuendo.He grinned smugly and Rose decided she couldn’t stand him already. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith,” she re-emphasized her formal greeting. Her tone and gritted teeth made it clear she wasn’t falling for his charms. He schooled his features into the look of pure coolness, took note of her tone, and wondered what he’d said wrong. 

“Right,” he said through a polite smile. 

He was under the distinct impression that Rose did not like him. It was very perplexing because not only was he a genius, but the ladies loved him. At least, if the many unsolicited kisses he received were any indication. Yep, the girls loved the nerdy vibe. Or well, they usually did. He watched as Rose walked abruptly away toward his new Inn, and leaned against the stairs, picking at her nails and ignoring his very existence. This would make for a long first day, clearly. 

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

After John had settled into his new living quarters, Rose was tasked with the job of showing him around. She quietly crept up the stairs and stopping in front of his slightly ajar door, she watched as John preened in the mirror. She stifled a giggle as he spent over two minutes trying to get his “bedhead” just so and sprayed a cloud of perfume atop. When he flattened it and started again she couldn’t help but let out an audible snort. John whipped around eyes wide in surprise and his face quickly growing pink with embarrassment. 

“Rose! I was just…um…” he paused looking at her amused face. “How long have you been standing there?” he squeaked.

“Long enough to wonder if your hair is an erogenous zone,” the words slipped from her mouth before she could think.

John cracked a large cheeky grin and waggled his eyebrows at her. 

“Only one way to find out,” he teased as he approached and bend his head forward with a silent invitation to touch his hair. 

Rose tried not to smile and looked away, mumbling awkwardly and motioned him to follow her. He watched perplexed as she shied away from his obvious flirtation. Curious that – he’d never had a woman turn down an opportunity to feel his hair. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly losing his boldness and feeling quite like a fool. 

“’S my job to show you ‘round and the sooner we do this the sooner I can get back to my reading.”

“Oh, reading! One of my favorite past times actually. Never can pass up a classic…. Dickens... Agatha Christie... even fancy me some Shakespeare! What is the name of it? Might be able to lend you a similar book with some notes in the margin. People like Mark Twain used to write in the margins of books.” 

“Are you comparing yourself to Mark Twain?” Rose changed the subject quickly and motioned towards the wall paper in the hallway. John shuddered at its hideousness, the misshapen green frogs looked like blobs. Like they absorbed everything around them, he settled on naming them “Abzorbaloffs.” 

“My grandmother Prentice had this specially crafted and designed by an artist in Paris. Rumor had it he was a former lover of hers.” She smiled with pride as she admired the work. A pause filled the air and John’s eyes started to wander to Rose. She was round, soft, and smelled faintly of strawberries. Lips so plump and full and he couldn’t help but pictured her lips kissing him and then he pictured them kissing other places. Not to mention the curve of her bum, he could just picture himself caressing it.

“Bedded for Pleasure,” her voice startled him out of his reverie. 

She turned just in time to catch him staring at her bum, but she didn’t comment on it.

“S-sorry…?” he swallowed nervously. 

“My book... you asked what I was reading.”

“Ah, I’m not familiar with that one. Sounds like Shakespear though, am I right?” 

Rose snorted at his corny joke as they continued their tour of the house. Rose reminiscing fondly, and John making notes in his head of all the changes he intended to make. Moving at a brisk pace, Rose led John outside to show him the back property. The lakefront had the potential for an amazing outdoor recreation area for guests. Caught up in his own wanderings, John turned around to see Rose patting a large oak tree that grew some fifteen feet from the water’s edge. She looked at him expectantly and he smiles and nodded, having clearly missed what she had just said. Rose traced her fingers over some old carved initials and designs on the side of the tree. 

"So...that’s the end of the tour," she announced. Rose gave him a polite smile and excused herself. Perhaps this joint venture wouldn’t be so difficult after all…

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The next morning Rose was startled awake to the sound of loud machines piercing the air. Sitting up groggily she tried to locate the source of the sound. Rose quickly threw on her flannel pajamas and stormed out her room on a mission. Staff jumped out of the way of a very haggard, tangled-hair, barely-one-eye-open mess that was storming down the hall. Throwing open the back door Rose located the source and her stomach dropped. She gasped at the sight: two large trucks and a crew of five men had just lopped the top half of the large oak tree off, and were working to break it into portable pieces. The very tree she had told John about, the very tree her parents had planted at their wedding on the lake side.


	2. A Woman Scorned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories." -Sun Tzu

Rose was frozen in shock and horror, and a slow seething anger started to bubble to the surface. She stormed towards the men at work yelling at the top of her lungs.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?”

A friendly looking man approached her.

“Hi Ma’am, what can I help you with?” he smiled.

“You…you…the tree …WHO THE HELL TOLD YOU TO CUT THIS DOWN?”

Her breathing was ragged, and her hands were balled into tight fists.

“That tree was planted by my great-grandfather and parents the day of their wedding!”

She took a shuddering breath and burst into tears.

“You’ve destroyed a piece of my family. It’s one of the few things I have left of them...”

Her eyes fell to the fallen remains, and she started to feel numb. As she looked at her bare feet and yummy sushi jimjams, she also had the decency to feel a smidgen embarrassed for flying off the handle like a lunatic. Looking at the remains of the tree simply reminded Rose how few touchable relics she had left of her parents.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, we were hired to come clear this out… let me check the paperwork…” He ran over to his make-shift workbench and grabbed his clipboard.

“One Mr. John Smith…” he looked up with sympathy, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

She inhaled a quick breath, pasted a smile on her face and apologized profusely. Fortunately the fellow didn’t seem any worse for the wear, and even sympathetic to her situation. She walked solemnly back up to her room but along the way her anger reignited and Rose took a detour. She quickly made her way to "One Mr. John Smith's” inn, flung the back door open, and stormed into the kitchen.

John was leaning against the counter, cup of coffee in his hand and laughing with Donna and their kitchen the staff. His laughter died as he saw a livid Rose barge in. He straightened his posture and put his coffee down.

“Rose, what’s wr-” he started, before feeling an immense stinging on his face.  
Rose had quickly closed the distance between the two of them and smacked him so hard that her hand was immediately throbbing, and John’s face now held a decisively Rose-shaped hand mark in red.

“How dare you do that! How dare you cut that tree down! After I told you how much I loved it. Are you really that heartless? As if selling this inn to some posh, stuck-up git wasn’t hard enough!”

She shook her head unbelieving the situation, and uncaring that tears were starting to well up. John’s guts twisted to see Rose crying, but it was also tempered with a flare of righteous indignation. He was only trying to help improve their property, after all!

"What are you talking about? And why are you throwing a tantrum like a two year old? Have you gone barmy, getting this upset over a shrub?" John's tone was incredulous.

Rose lunged at him to smack him again but was intercepted. Donna, who had been temporarily shocked into stillness by the scene, suddenly remembered herself and jumped in front of Rose throwing her hands up.

“Rose, let me stop you before you do something you’ll regret.” Donna’s words were firm but not unkind.

Gently taking her by the shoulders, she led Rose out the backdoor. However, not before throwing an annoyed glare at John. John stood in the kitchen holding one hand to his face and trying to process the whole situation. When had Rose told him about the tree?

He replayed the scene from yesterday in his head, belatedly realizing that he must have zoned out when she was talking to him. He’d long ago hired work crews to come out and perform various landscaping and construction needs. He never thought he’d need to collaborate with Wilf on any of the changes, it was his inn after all. Though technically the tree was partially on the divide line of both properties.

As Rose stepped outside she felt immediate regret curling in her chest.

“I shouldn’t have done that, Donna. I mean, I hit him! I’ve never hit anyone in my life!” She covered her eyes in shame.

“Well you picked the right one to start with. Nice smack by the way, and don’t feel too bad. I’d have given him one myself for that. Now how are you doing? Really? Lots of change going around and that’s just no fun. My father always said ‘the only good thing to change in your life is your knickers.’”

Rose broke into a reluctant giggle at that, took a breath, and gave her a smile. Donna had been a wonderful help the past two years. She was so on top of everything that Wilf insisted she take on the hostess for the new inn. No one was better fitted and as it turned out she was an old family friend of John’s. Nevertheless Donna had a big soft spot for Rose and thought of her as a little sister. When it came to putting Rose is her place, however, there was no one better.

“I’m going to go brood in my room where I’ve only myself to smack.” Rose folded in on herself and walked back to the other building sullenly.

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

Donna thundered into the kitchen, glared at John and threw her hands on her hips. John was still frozen in a disbelieving stare at the door, gently rubbing his slapped cheek.

“Well done, spaceman. Making enemies as quickly as ever, I see. You didn’t check with Wilf? You dumbo.”

She smacked him upside the head hard on her way to pour another cup of tea, and John let out another indignant yelp.

“That poor girl.” She shook her head sadly.

“Poor girl?” He asked disbelievingly, his hand absent-mindedly ghosting the numbness of his face.

“She smacked me! Hard!”

“Pfft! You deserved it. Go apologize.”

“I most certainly will not. Apologize to a spoiled petulant brat!”

John clenched his jaw and left the kitchen before Donna could reply. Like hell he planned to apologize, it was only a stupid piece of shrubbery! John wandered off to oversee the new staff and thought perhaps a good flirt would distract him from his foul mood.

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

Rose knew she was flying off the handle a bit, but she couldn’t help it. After all the changes that had come as of late, the devastation of losing a beloved landmark on the property really did eat at her. Donna had been kind to comfort her and always seemed the sort of have her head about her in dealing with drama.

As she was headed to her bedroom, Rose absently stumbled past the crew’s tools settled right outside her Dad’s old painting studio-turned-shed. Smack dab in front, almost screaming for attention, were four large buckets of brand new paint. Paint that was to be used for renovating the sold inn’s outside.

A devious plan popped into her mind and Rose quickly swiped them up, moving them into the shed. Just to be sure she wasn't noticed, she peeked through the dusty windows and was happy to find everyone was distracted. Quickly she sifted through the shelves, tossing brittle brushes, old paper scraps, and random pieces of crafts over her shoulder.

“Ha!” she let out a shout of triumph when she found it.

“Bless you, Dad, and your love of bright, hideous colors!”

She pried the tin tops off the large paint buckets, shook the concentrated pigment cans hard, and poured their contents into the paint. Bright, fluorescent green permeated the pristine white paint with lovely streaks. Rose grabbed a large stick and mixed the paints as best as she could. She wasn’t as good as a professional mixing machine would be, but she reckoned the paint crew could even the color out when they started painting with no problem. By the time she was done the paint looked like it belonged on a 1960’s psychedelic album cover, and Rose giggled with glee. 

She wiped the paint drippings, replaced the lids, and ripped off the original color name stickers. Placing the buckets outside quickly. Rose managed to inconspicuously check the project paperwork on the bench and was pleased to see no mention of paint color listed in the project sheets, simply the task of painting. They would be none-the-wiser to the change. She whistled a happy tune as she walked away.

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

John slowly strolled down the porch fully dressed and enjoying his morning coffee. Walking out to the driveway he turned to take a look at his new, almost completely-painted Inn.The sound of his coffee mug breaking was loud. Coffee splashed on his shoes and his suit, but he barely noticed. All that filled John’s eyes was green.

“Bright green! MY INN IS BRIGHT... BLOODY…GREEN!” He squinted in horror and disbelief, his mouth trying to form more words but failing. At some point Donna had joined at his side to also take in the new look. 

“Well, you can’t say it isn’t…original.” She snorted a laugh.

“You find this funny, Donna? Why…how…”

 Donna raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” She smugly sipped her tea.

 “What did I ever do to you? Why would you-“

 “It wasn’t me, Spaceman! I wouldn’t have been so subtle.”

 “Subtle? You call this subtle? I can’t even fathom who would-” he paused as the realization suddenly hit him.

“Rose...”

 Donna gently clapped him on the shoulder.

“I think she likes you,” she noted astutely and straight-faced before walking away.

“Apologize!” she threw breezily over her shoulder.

 John watched as she walked away, stunned. Once again he had no intention of apologizing-he was clearly the victim. Time for some reckoning, he thought as seethed and started to brainstorm revenge.

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

Though Rose hated to admit it, many of the new upgrades John had brought to both places made life much easier. Computer systems and software beat paperwork any day, and having the ability to run instant reports saved them from spending hours sifting through hard copies.

Despite the many upgrades John gave to both places, he had somehow managed to avoid Rose for nearly a week. Not that she was complaining, mind you. In fact, Rose was finding herself with a lot more time to tackle the many projects she had on her list. Her first priority though, was to get back into the kitchen and start messing with baking dishes for the menu. Baking was a side hobby that Rose found quite soothing.

All in all it filled her afternoon with a surprising amount of enjoyment. So much so that she’d almost forgotten about the prior dinner arrangements Wilf had made for the staff. Her mood soured considerably when she looked up and noticed it was time for said meal. Wilf entered the kitchen and Rose wiped her hands clean on her apron, reluctantly removing it.

“Rose, love, walk with me over to John's inn right now? The pies look lovely my dear,” Wilf said gently to his granddaughter.

He offered her his elbow and she reluctantly pulled herself away from her duties and outside.

“Ah, that’s um…well, I suppose that’s a modern color,” Wilf remarked upon seeing the new change to the other building’s refreshed exterior.

Rose bit her lip to keep from smiling too much, and nodded in silent agreement.

“I thought he was going to go with a nice muted dark blue, must have changed his mind. A tad bright for my tastes, but what do I know about running a modern destination, eh?” He chuckled and shook his head.

 “I’d say it’s fitting for the place- puke green matches the puke owner, don’t you think?”

 “Bah! Enough of that!” Wilf admonished Rose pulling her a stop to look into her eyes.

“Listen, I know that you haven’t seemed to warm to John, but he’s a nice fella.”

He sighed, looking up at the twilight sky to watch as the stars started to permeate it.

“Rose, I’m not gonna be around forever...”

 “Don’t say that!”

 “Listen, the running of this place will fall to you and Mr. Smith when I’m gone. You’re doing a wonderful job already, but you need to work on that poker face of yours. And maybe on giving people a chance. You don’t know the first thing about him.”

 Rose sighed and didn’t add anything to the conversation as they walked the short distance to the John’s inn and its refurbished dining room. The room was indeed something spectacular to behold, in fact it stopped her in her tracks.

The dark oak antique furniture, contrasted by the lovely aged wood the color of dark amber. The tables and chair were tastefully mismatched and eclectic. Various antique treasures were strategically placed through the whole dining room. Rose, however, saw none of that. Her attention was glued to the new wallpaper that covered every inch of wall and displayed pictures of her.

Well, more specifically her and grandad Wild. While many showed the lovely years of his life and family, the pictures of Rose were every single embarrassing photo she could recall. Her naked toddler bottom and she cheekily smiled and ran through the garden at summertime, her forced braces smile at thirteen, her bed head at fifteen on Christmas morning. Pictures that Rose had sworn would never see the light of the day were now for everyone to see.

Wilf laughed with joy at seeing all the photos printed in a black and white format. His daughter, baby Rose with shepherd’s pie all over her face. His family, the inn, his whole life and beautiful granddaughter. He teared up at the sight and was speechless.

“Oh my god! Those are the worst photos!” she whispered in a frantic voice towards Wilf.

“Nah, you’re always beautiful love. You're always charming… look at that!” Wilf wandered over to a photo of him in front of the Inn on the first day of opening.

John watched and donned a big grin on his face, gently patting the old man on the shoulder.

“You like it?” He gently side-hugged Wilf.

“Like it? It's my life, my whole life in pictures. However did you manage this?”

“Well Rose mentioned having custom printed wallpaper and it got me thinking. What a better way to honor the old and usher in the new? Then it was simply a matter of finding picture and viola!”

John beamed, carefully avoiding looking in Rose’s general direction.The staff also admired the unveiling of the new room, many trying to stifle laughs at the mortifying photos of their colleague. Rose gathered herself and looked for a place to hide, opting to find herself at the dinner table first. She was less than thrilled when she looked at the table and noticed name tags had been placed on the table.

“Seating arrangements!” she groaned quietly before sucking it up and pasting a smile on her face for the benefit of her Grandad who had just sat down across from her. John promptly joined the group pulled out her chair next to him with a smug smile. Rose looked away trying to distract herself and caught a glimpse of the painting on the wall and made a face. John took his place next to her as one of the staff started welcoming everyone and giving a brief of company news.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Madame de Pompadour , Drouais, 1763. Quite beautiful, wouldn’t you say? It was the last known painting commission of her. Before her tragic death at a relatively young age. Perhaps not as lovely as your budding pubescent photo on the wall there,” he snickered.

Rose’s eyes never left the speaking staff member, as she leaned in to respond through gritted teeth.

“You graced this lovely dining room with the painting of an overpriced whore?”

“Ah jealous are we? Weeell, not everyone can run a war so smoothly, Ms. Tyler. Frankly, I admired her forthrightness. You know where you stood with her, not like a cunningly pretty woman who’s all... pink and yellow...”

He seemed to have realized the implications of what he had just said a moment too late.

“You think I’m pretty?” Rose was a bit thrown by that revelation and guilt from her conversation with Wilf set in. She sighed and leaned over to apologize and be the bigger person.

“I’m sorry. That was quite rude of me. I can’t really explain it but I’ve never particularly cared for the uncrowned queen of France. Her history of leaving her husband and child to chase a man on the thrown just seemed… heartless.”

“I concede your point. She still holds a place in women of authority in a time where there really wasn’t such a thing.”

“I prefer Joan of Arc, lead her people into battle and listened to her conscience.”

“Seems fitting you’d say that. War. “To the pain,” eh Rose Tyler?”

“You are such an arse!” she hissed.

Then she elbowed him in the ribs and his subsequent loud declaration of pain made the whole meeting come to a grinding halt with them as the center of attention.

Their embarrassment was enough to keep them using polite niceties during dinner and actively avoiding talking to each other.

John stood to give a quick speech to the staff.

“Thank you to all the staff for their patience and hard work in reopening this inn. I am excited to see what the future brings. Tonight I will not waste your time with my gobb-” The employees all cheered and clapped loudly.

“Except to say that I have now decided the name which will be announced in news and online publications this week! Welcome, to The Tardis Inn!”

Cheers and a few raised eyebrows scatter the room but the excitement was palpable as Wilf stood and gave a brief introduction to the next course. “Out with the old,” he said indicating himself. “And in with the new.” He gestured to John affectionately.

“And what better way to celebrate the transition with a special treat made by my Granddaughter Rose. She has spent the day making her Famously Fantastic Apple Rhubarb and Custard Pie. Dig in, and on your way out wish her good luck in the upcoming pie competition she’s entered.”

Wilf promptly sat down and dug in before stopping abruptly.

“Rose, love, I forgot to mention I can’t drive you to the contest. My old truck blew a spark plug, she won’t be up and running for another week until they can get the parts in.”

“But…the competition is in two days, and the only way I can get there is car!” She groaned and put her hands in her head trying to figure out the possibilities. Perhaps she could bribe Shireen into making the trip but as much as she loved her best mate, Shireen had a habit of being flaky.

“John could take you? I reckon that BMW would offer a much smoother ride anyway.” Wilf offered, smiling at John.

For his part John looked like a deer caught in the headlights and his voice raised an octave.

“Um….Weeell, I’m not sure if I can pull away from work with the…stuff…and…things.” He scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“I’ll run the ship!” Donna announced happily.

John glared Donna’s way but she chugged her wine and happily avoided his eyes. There was no getting out of it this time, and really who would want to disappoint Wilf? The jovial old bugger knew it too.

“Oh well. There we have it then. Looks like I can do it.” John gave a tight smile and Rose smiled back reluctantly.

“Listen, you really don’t have to do it…. I can just try again next year.”

Rose was giving him an out, but it didn’t feel right to take it.

“Naaah. It will be fun, I’ve lots of spiffy technology in my car to entertain you. Plus, I challenge you to find a song that I don’t have readily available to listen.”

This was going to be a nightmare, Rose was completely certain of it. However the pie contest offered a great prize - 10,000 pounds, an interview in the most popular baking magazine in the UK, and the chance to earn more publicity to customers to their place. The staff were still celebrating and eating dessert but Rose had excused herself to take a break and think. She leaned on the front desk of The Tardis and ruminated.

The more she thought about things, the angrier she got about the violation of her pictures being used. She looked down at the desk to find a photo of John standing in front of said wallpaper and a write up advertisement to be sent in for publishing. Not only would customers see the photos as they dined in this place, but her humiliation could be clearly seen in papers, magazines, and online! Rose saw red but quickly thought of a way to even the score.

She pulled out a pen, and edited the submission adding two simple letters to the new name, and one space. Rose smiled satisfactorily to herself, popped the advertisement info into the addressed and stamped envelope, and dropped it into the outgoing mail slot.

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

A few days later John walked around the inn, going about his usual routine and noticed that no one was making eye contact with him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a staff member quickly shoving something under a pile of books, trying to look casual as he hurried. He raised an eyebrow and walked into the kitchen. Donna offered him a cup of coffee and threw the newspaper at him.

“Apologize!” she said angrily.

“Apologize...to Rose? Wha…”

He stopped mid sentence in horror as he read his inn’s advertisement.

“Come stay at the “RETARD IS INN”?!?”

He pulled his hair in frustration and growled.

“All this could be ended if you just have some bullocks, woman up, and apologize.” Donna tried appealing to his sensibilities, hoping to start a cease-fire.

“No way. This is ridiculous! She’s not only messed with the renovation of this place, she’s destroyed our reputation. Not to mention the insensitive use of an antiquated and terrible word!”

“We don’t have a vacancy for the next six months! We’ve already sold out a month’s worth this very morning from the advertisement. It isn’t ruining business, but I tell you what it is ruining - your sanity. Just apologize already.”

John ignored her and stormed out, yet again hell bent on settling the score. This was personal. He considered refusing to drive Rose hours away to the contest, but the thought of Wilf’s disappointment was too much for him to bare. He stewed for the rest of the day, and finally had an epiphany. Unknown sabotage would be the best revenge. Later that night John worked up his resolve to man up and just do it.

Duplicating her pie convincingly wouldn’t be too hard. He couldn’t exactly walk over and swap out the pies in the middle of the night, too many night staff around The Prentice Inn. Here in his kitchen here it was quiet and if he played his cards right, he could do a swap when they loaded up the car for the trip. A nagging guilt kept eating at him as he poured the salt into apple rhubarb filling in place of sugar. But if John was good at one thing, it was ignoring what he should be doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the use of "retard", in this story it was the only way to make the title embarrassing. I hope you are not offended.


	3. The Tell Tale Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John follows through with his plan to sabotage Rose's pie, but soon develops a conscious. And perhaps something much deeper than friendship with Rose.

John offered to pack the car with their items the next morning. As Rose ran back inside to grab something, John slipped his pie into the cooler box, and in a panic quickly shoved the original pie into the empty spare tire compartment. Rose smiled a suspicious smile at John as they stood awkwardly about to get into the car but seemed none the wiser.

Rose barely made grunts of acknowledgment at being spoken to and nursed a large mug of coffee. The first 30 minutes were silent which suited Rose just fine, but Mr. Fidgety couldn’t seem to still and silent much longer. The pie called to him from the trunk “saboteur, saboteur,” and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, warring with his guilt. In an attempt to distract himself, he opted to show off his incredible sound system.

 

”Nothing like a dose of Queen loudly to wake up and get your blood pumping!” John crowed with glee and busted out singing trying to goad Rose into joining the fun. She blushed to her ears with redness but her face held a genuine smile. John was mesmerized by the glow. How had they become such bitter rivals? “Saboteur, saboteur…” He swallowed his guilt and focused on Rose. 

 

“Was that a smile?” he teased.

 

“No.”

 

“That was a smile!”

 

“No it wasn’t,” she replied primly.

 

John broke into the widest grin she’d ever seen and she couldn’t help but return it. She started singing softly, her eyes and head facing away from him watching the farm pasture as they drove. 

 

“Saboteur, Saboteur, Saboteur…”

“I can’t hear you,” he sing-songed at her before busting into the verse. His distraction was barely working and simply made him feel more guilty. Rose, for her part, was lovely company. What kind of monster was he?

 

“THUNDER BOLT OF LIGHTNING VERY VERY FRIGHTENING TO ME!” he belowed.

She closed her eyes to avoid the embarrassment of looking at him, but faced forward and sang louder. When he attempted the high falsettos of Freddie Mercury, Rose busted out laughing and her cheeks blushed with sympathy embarrassment.

“You, Rose Tyler are not singing!” He poked her in the ribs with each word he spoke for emphasis. 

Rose sang the last of the verse softly, and with such a quiet reverence and lovely omniture that John thought she’d have given Freddie a run for his money. And that was all it took to melt the last of the awkwardness away. They spent the hours in the car getting to know each other more, and John had determined he would swap the pies out and help Rose win. He was quite anxious to get to the bed and breakfast and set things right.

 

“So, Rose Tyler....Tell me about your first love.”

 

“Right, straight to it then, eh? Let’s see...his name was James. A tall clumsy bloke with a large chin, no eyebrows, and a love of bow ties.”

 

“Bow ties? Nothing highlights a penchant for bad choices more than choosing to wear a bow tie. Well, and let you go.” 

 

As much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to really enjoy John’s company. Maybe even fancy him, her traitorous brain whispered quietly. It was strange to find that she might not have minded it so much. 

 

“Well, I didn’t tell you the best part!”

 

“Oh?”

 

“He left me for his teacher. She’s three years older than his mum!”

 

“Nooooooo! That’s...that’s…”

 

“Gross?” she supplied.

 

“Quite.” 

 

He shuddered for effect and grimaced. 

 

“So, what about you John? Any special loves?” 

 

“Looks like we’re almost there…” He indicated towards the GPS, an attempt to avoid the current topic.

 

“Oi! Not so quick! No changing the subject. Spill!”

 

John rubbed his neck and pulled his ear, something Rose started to notice as a tell of his.

 

“Weeellll…. Yes, I suppose. There was someone. Beautiful someone but a bit obsessed with success and money. She put me on a pedestal, never really knew the true me.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I did what I do best. I ran.”

 

They pulled into the bed and breakfast just as the sky broke loose. 

 

He grinned, got out of the car, opened Rose’s door, and offered her his hand

 

“Speaking of- run!”

 

They ran to the shelter of the lobby a bit drenched but laughing quite hard. The couple in front of them finished checking in and turned around.

 

“Rose….” the tall man said in surprise.

 

John looked at Rose and noticed the blood draining from her face. 

 

“What...what...are you doing here? I’m surprised to see you away from your grandfather’s place. Never really one for exploring or changing...” 

 

He babbled a tad nervously, John thought. He also noticed the condescension in the man’s statement and bristled.

 

Rose cleared her throat and introduced John to the man. 

 

“John, this is James.”

 

“James...James! Please to meet you, chap!” he exclaimed as it clicked. This was Rose’s ex. 

 

“And this must be your mother? Lovely to see you’re still active, getting out and about.”

 

“Wife,” the woman corrected, ignoring John’s extended hand. 

 

“Ah, like them aged I see? I’m John Smith, by the way. How do you know my fiance?” 

 

John crushed Rose to his side, possessively shifting his body and dropping a quick kiss on her head. Rose quickly recovered her shock and played the part, gently patting his bum and leaning her head on his shoulder. It was strange how right it felt being close to him. Not new or awkward, but like the perfect fit. 

 

“F-fiance?” the man stuttered. 

 

“Yep!” he replied popping his ‘p.’

 

“As of yesterday, we’re here to celebrate in fact.” 

 

“Sir, your room is ready,” the concierge interrupted extending the key to James.

 

“Yes, well. Um, nice seeing you…” James bid them goodbye as his wife grabbed the key and shot daggers at John.

 

“Sure, see you around. Maybe for a game of Bingo, or bridge?” He yelled and waved before adding more quietly to Rose, “Probably not dinner though, I heard the elderly like early bed times.” 

 

Rose choked on laughter, watching the couple as they walked away, having clearly heard every bit of that. Once they were gone she turned to John wide-eyed. 

 

“Thank you...you have no idea. I…”

 

Impulsively she grabbed John and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Embarrassment quickly caught up with her and she abruptly stopped, walked away, and looked to retrieve their room keys. 

 

“Yep...still got it,” a dazed John squeaked as he ran his hand through his hair. 

 

“Here you go Ms. Tyler, the couple’s supreme suite,” the concierge handed her the keys and smiled. “Enjoy your stay guys!” 

 

Rose paused in confusion. 

 

“D-did you say one suite? Just one?”

 

“Yes miss, that is what our records indicate. Large king-sized bed, upgrade per your request.”

 

“My request? I booked two separate rooms?”

 

The concierge checked the records again. 

 

“Yes miss, but then you called yesterday to change. I’d offer you another room but we’re all booked out. Will you and your fiance need to cancel?”

 

“No need to cancel,” John piped up. He grabbed Rose’s hand and smiled, grabbing the key and leading her away. 

 

“Give us a chance to practice our...dance moves, whatd’ya say, love?” He bent down and whispered into her ear. “Looks like we’re playing the engaged couple this weekend.”

 

She smiled nervously but nodded her consent. 

 

“I’ll bring the things in, you go check out our room?” John made to walk out to the car and perform the switch quickly but Rose grabbed him. 

 

“No way am I letting that pie out of sight. The committee has special arrangements for onsite storage, it goes from my hands to the banquet captain.”

 

John swallowed nervously his brain racing through possible options. Maybe he could swap them in the night, if he were stealthy. Or perhaps bribe the kitchen staff?

 

Grabbing their bags, John followed Rose to drop of the pie. A stern and dour looking woman came out from the back. She held a clipboard of paperwork for Rose to fill out, then stuck the carbon copy to the box, sealed shut. He was horrified by the strictness of all this - a pie contest! It was clear, however, that there was no way John would be able to swap them out. 

 

“Saboteur, saboteur, saboteur,” the tell-tale pie called to him in the back of his conscience. 

 

Perhaps he could manage to swap them at the contest? John ran his hands through his hair and let out a breath. This wasn’t something he could fix now, but there was one thing that he could do. He could show Rose a lovely time and try to be friends. 

 

“Looks like we have the whole afternoon to ourselves, Rose Tyler! What do you say we go on an adventure?” He wiggled his fingers and flashed her a charming smile, and Rose found she was lost to the man. 

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

“John!” Rose frantically tried to get his attention. 

 

“Just a mo!” He stood perched on a sea encrusted rock that had popped itself out of the tide, aiming his camera to the distance and waiting for the clouds to part the light just right.

 

“John! John, we need to go! The tide is coming in...NOW!” 

 

A particularly high wave crashed over John’s left shoe and he yelped. Turning around he saw they were trapped as the water began to head into land at a rapid pace. John leaped to the next rock Rose was on, grabbing onto her tightly and trying not to fall. 

 

“Rose, look at me,” he held a serious expression.

 

“Now is the time to HOP FOR YOUR LIFE!” he said as he lept top the next rock poking out of the water. 

 

Rose and John hopped from rock to rock as quickly as they could, but found themselves stuck on the last rock with nothing but water and the beach ahead. Assessing the depth, John hopped down and gasped at the cold water that hit his calves. He turned around and offered his arms to Rose, who made to jump in the water. She was surprised when John swooped her up bridal style in his arms and waded to the shore. 

 

They made it to the shore and John tried in vain to wring the water from his jeans. 

 

“Don’t suppose they’d mind if I walked inside in my drawers, do you?” 

 

“The way the concierge was eyeing you? Not a chance!” She giggled and pushed her wind-whipped hair away from her face. 

 

“Can I just say, traveling with you, I love it!” 

 

“Me too!” John found his face hurting from the genuine grin that split his face. They walked back to the B&B quickly, but hand in hand. Both of them noting how right their hands felt together. 

 

After quick showers, John and Rose opted to grab dinner to go in their rooms, and sidled up to each other on the single bed watching movies. 

 

Rose awoke to find herself nestled into the crook of John’s arm and couldn’t bring herself to move. Managing to toe the throw blanket over both of them, she snuggled into John and breathed in his spicy scent. She was scared to admit the truth to herself, but Rose was sure she was falling in love.


	4. The Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's betrayal is uncovered.

John awake groggily to a comfortable weight on his shoulder and snuggled into him. He smiled when he remembered it was Rose and pressed a kiss into her head softly. The unwanted thought of what was to come popped into his head. His betrayal. Maybe he could fix it? Maybe she would never know the truth? Regardless, John would know. The truth settled deep into his gut and formed a deep ball of anxiety. His thoughts were broken when said beauty stirred awake.

“Oh my god...I drooled on your shoulder!” Her face turned a crimson shade of embarrassment as she tried to mop the puddle up with her sleeve.

“Aww, what’s a little drool? Out of all the drool in the world, Rose Tyler’s is the least offensive.”

Rose smiled at him and enjoyed a few more moments in his arms. It felt so right to be cuddled to his side, she thought. Today was the big day however, so cuddles would have to wait she stretched, then made to shower dressed and out the door for the contest. 

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

 

The B&B’s back garden was set up with a lovely covered aviary for the contestants to display their pies for the judges. Rose took extra care to decorate her small section of table with small flower bouquets, and an antique cake stand of her grandmother’s. She fidgeted from foot to foot and wrung her hands in anticipation, but made certain to flash a genuine and hopeful smile as the judges gave a first pass for judging on the appearance.

John’s attempts to bribe the judges with exorbitant amounts of money were met with appalled huffs and even one smack on the arm. He sighed trying to work up a plan since swapping the pies was completely out of question. Perhaps knocking the pie over would be the best option? John made his way to Rose’s section just as the pie pieces were being eaten by the judges. Right, too late for that plan. He grimaced in anticipation. 

The scene unfolding in front of him was worse than he could have anticipated. The first judged choked, coughed, and actually spit out the pie into his napkin. Rose’s eyes widened stunned. The other judges followed suit, attempting to keep dignity and their reactions to a minimum. Gently placing the unfinished samples back on the table and sipping water as they wrote their notes. The last judge, a kindly old man flashed Rose a pitying smile of an apology as he returned the sample. 

Rose turned around to face John to avoid anyone seeing the tears welling up in her eyes. John gently rubbed her arms and tried to sooth her. 

“I...I don’t know what happened? I think they hated it!” 

She inhaled a big breath and released it slowly, tilting her head back to force the impending tears back into her eyes. John for his part searched for something, anything, to say but came up short. 

 

The results were in quickly, and the top three winners were awarded their ribbons and photos. One judge each collected the feedback notes to give to the contestants. The kindly older man came over to Rose, and gently squeezed her arm. 

“My dear, I think it is quite unfortunate for you, but it seems you mixed up your ingredients.”

Rose looked confused for a moment before he continued.

“Chin up though, Ms. Tyler. I have to say, however, that out of all the salted pies I could possibly have, yours would undoubtedly be the best! Please do try again next year, dear.”

He was promptly pulled away by another guest before she could say anything else. Frantically searching for a fork Rose grabbed a large piece of her pie and ate it. She coughed and choked much like the judges had and cried out in disbelief. 

“Oh my god! That is horrendous! I can’t believe I made that mistake! I pulled the sugar straight from the bag, this makes no sense!”

Rose tossed her fork down and sighed in defeat. 

“What do you want to do now?” John asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I want...Do you smell chips?” She sniffed the air searching.

“Yeah.” John laughed.

“I want chips!”

He pulled her away to find the chip vendor but Rose asked to leave right away and asked him to grab the chips while she collected their things and checked out. John handed his keys to her with a forced smile and prayed that the chips would be just the thing to cheer her up. 

Rose made her way to the Inn, looking defeated, drained and chilled by the sea air. Remembering her sweater she made her way to John’s car and popped the boot. Her sweater was pinned between a crack in the bottom of the floor and she yanked it hard not caring if she’d damage the car or sweater. The compartment to the spare tire opened. Inside stood another pie box, with the ice surrounding the package almost completely melted away. She lifted the life and discovered another pie, identical to hers. Rose studied it in confusion for a moment before it finally clicked. 

From behind her she heard John speak. 

“Rose...I..”

“John…you…it was you. Why would you do that?” 

She spun around with a look of disbelief. Please say it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be! She had it all wrong. 

“Rose-I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry-“

 

“I thought we were…” her voice broke with a choked sob. “Obviously I got it wrong.” 

Rose fled to the garden behind the B&B as John called after her. Unsure of what to do next, John opted to follow her. He found her sitting on a bench overlooking the water. Tears were streaming down her face but she didn’t look angry. What scared John the most was that Rose looked defeated. 

“Rose, please…please let me explain. I tried to fix it…I didn’t mean for…” his voice died off as he searched for the right words. He looked up at the sky and silently wished harder than ever that he had a time machine to go back and fix this mistake. 

Rose looked at the chips nestled between them and grabbed one. Moments ago she’d been hungry. She tried the chip but found she couldn’t finish it. 

“Tell me what I can do to fix it Rose. I’ll do anything.”

“It’s too late John. Let’s just go home.”

Rose walked ahead to the car, grabbed her perfect pie out of the trunk, and tossed it into the long grass. At least the birds would feast well today. 

 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The drive back was filled with a terrible silence. Rose stared out the window with a vacant expression, head in her hand. John didn’t know what to say so he opted for silence. 

As they pulled into the drive, Rose gingerly stepped out and upon seeing her Grandad abruptly forgot her luggage, opting to throw herself into his arms for a hug. Wilf tried to no avail to figure out what happened but Rose simply offered a stiff smile and said she was going to her room for the rest of the day. 

John sat in the car a bit numb and even more ashamed. He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up to see a concerned Wilfred standing next to him. 

“What happened?” the old man pleaded to understand. 

 

John scrubbed a hand over his face before responding. 

 

“I messed up. I took this…war… between Rose and I too far. But you have to believe me, Wilfred. I tried to fix it before everything went to shite.”

 

Wilfred motioned with his head silently and John followed. Sitting on the porch over two glasses of Wilf’s hard cider John explained what had happened. To his credit the old man didn’t pass judgment but his eyes were sad. After John finished the story Wilf nodded slowly as he stared off into the distance. 

“Love is a strange thing indeed,” he muttered. 

He met John’s eyes whilst patting his hand. 

“I have faith that you will fix it, John. She needs you and I suspect you need her just as much. I love my Rose, but she can be a fair bit stubborn.” He smiled warmly before adding, “But she’s finally met her match.”

With that he made to leave, before pausing and adding a thought.

“I’d have probably done the same thing, John. But I’d have added laxatives for extra effect,” he called over his shoulder.

John stared in shock and then laughed, he really liked that old man.

Swallowing the last of his cider, he started to formulate a plan.


	5. The start of legends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a ukulele, a naked man, and wood make a happy ending.

A soft knock on the door startled Rose awake. Opening her eyes, she groggily looked for the clock. Looking down and seeing her dress from the fair, she quickly surmised that she had fallen asleep yesterday afternoon and slept through the night. Rose opened the door slowly and was relieved to find that no one was there.

At her feet sat a tray with breakfast: her favorite peppermint licorice tea, golden scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, and a small envelope addressed to her. The scones smelled heavenly and made her stomach rumble. She broke off a small piece smothering it with cream and jam, and closed her eyes in sheer bliss at the amazing flavors that burst onto her tongue.   
Rose sat on the edge of her bed and opened the envelope. Inside the envelope was piece of square white piece of cloth with a message. 

“Rose,  
Here is my white flag of surrender. I am truly sorry for my deplorable actions. I will war no more and will try to win your friendship.   
-J.S.”

Rose sighed. Part of her really wanted to mend fences and try to start anew. However, the memories of yesterday’s humiliation were so fresh in her mind. She cringed recalling the the disgusted looks and pity from the judges. Still, the scones seemed like a move in the right direction. If she were honest with herself she’d say it wasn’t losing the contest that really hurt her, it was the utter cruelty of his plan. Their trip had been nice and she was certain she felt a genuine connection going both ways. 

 

The Inn’s annual Summer Solstice Celebration was almost here and Rose found she didn’t have very long to wallow in her depression. Every year the Inn had celebrated the start of a warmer season with a large dinner served on the large deck overlooking the lake. It typically tooks days to prep the meal and with a completely sold out property, it would be even bigger this year. 

She walked into the kitchen sporting a messy bun and ready to work. It was a surprise to see John was there already, directing the staff and hands messy kneading a large ball of dough. Rose bit her lip to keep from smiling when he turned around to greet her with a big streak of flour across his face.

“Rose! Rousing, rascally, ravishing Rose! Do you like alliteration? Always alluring alliteration!”  
John grinned with a charming and truly happy smile. 

Keeping in mind his gifts and literal white flag, Rose had decided to at least treat him cordially and professionally. However, she couldn’t help a genuine smile in response and set to work on the cooking prep. John was pleased to see his effort to be nice was setting both of them at ease and allowing him to liven the mood of the staff. He even frequently bent over her shoulder making observations on her progress. 

“Molto bene! Seems fitting to use french to make culinary masterpieces. The French people themselves? Complete prats and I should know, I dated one! But their food...now that, that is whatgives them a bit of redemption. 

At the end of the day both Rose and John were beat. Rose plopped down in a lounge chair on the deck and closed her eyes in the warm breeze. She heard soft footsteps coming towards her and the smell of John’s light cologne drifting over. Rose opened her right eye and looked at him. He presented her with a yellow cake with little ball bearings. 

“You stole one?” 

“I made an extra just for you.” 

John motioned for her to take it and Rose happily accepted. Their fingers touched briefly and John held her hand for a moment. 

“Forgive me?”

They were simple words but his eyes held so much more behind them. Sadness, hope, shame, and something else that made Rose’s stomach flutter. Removing the cake from her hand she turned her palm over and gently squeezed in confirmation. Neither of them let go and simply enjoyed the summer evening in silence for a bit. 

Rose surprised both of them when she spoke.

“Tell me a story?” 

John smiled and paused for a moment. 

“I’ll tell you the story of a spaceman named John. No, wait. No one knows his name. Forget I said that. He’s simply called ‘the Doctor.’”

“Doctor Who?”

“Just ‘the Doctor.’ Now shhh! I was telling you a story and now I have to start over. There was once a spaceman, a Time Lord to be precise who was a very lonely and broken man. Until one day a feisty and brilliant woman named Rose walked into his life.”

Rose smiled as he spun his tale, not quite sure when she’d leaned against his shoulder or when she closed her eyes. For quite a while she had a fantastical dream about an alien and the love of his lives.”

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The day of the Summer Solstice finally arrived and Rose awoke with little time to reflect on the nice evening she’d had yesterday. There was a pleasant rhythm between the two of them and there was an excitement in the air. Five o’clock rolled around and Rose finally sat down on the deck to reap the rewards of their amazing dinner. There was a calm and happy atmosphere to the evening, and Rose quietly sipped wine and ate listening to the dinner conversations. Every now and then she caught her eyes wandering across the deck to John’s table, and each time and gave her a dazzling grin.

An hour later there was a pause in the festivities as dinner was cleared and dessert was on the way. A sudden outburst of laughter caught Rose’s attention, and she looked for the source as the crowd started whooping and hollering their approval. Then she saw it...or more accurately who.

John stood in the grass before the crowd, completely starkers, save for the tiny ukulele covering his bits. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please excuse my wee bit of nakedness, but I am here to make an arse of myself. You see, I hurt a very lovely person and she has yet to forgive me. So I am throwing myself to her pity, by now singing a humiliating song…”

Rose had recovered from her shock and now held her hands over her mouth in both embarrassment, and to keep from laughing. 

He cleared his throat and strummed his ukulele and started to sing.

“When I was just a wee wee tot  
They put me on my wee wee pot  
To see if I would wee or not  
Wee wee, wee wee

When they saw that I would not  
Wee wee in my wee wee pot  
They put me in my wee wee cot  
And there I wee weed quite a lot  
Wee wee, wee wee

They took me from my wee wee cot  
And smacked me on my wee wee bot  
Which goes to show that you should not  
Drink a lot when the weather is hot.  
Wee wee, wee wee”

John sang the last wobbly note, blushing profusely, and then spoke again.

“Rose, please forgive me.”

He took a bow and then quickly straightened when he heard more whooping from the crowd. Folks in the crowd started yelling at Rose to go down and forgive him, an older women gently taking her by the arm and guiding her down the steps to a naked John. She gave her one last final push and Rose stopped in front of him. 

“Hi…” she smiled, her face the color of her namesake. 

“Hi.” John smiled his goofy grin. 

“Am I forgiven then?” For the first time, Rose noticed he looked genuinely nervous.

“Yeah. But...do you forgive me too?” 

“Always, Rose Tyler.” Her name rolled off his tongue in a delicious way that set butterflies in her stomach. She smiled and lifted on to her tippy toes, kissing him gently on the lips. Their dinner guests couldn’t be more delighted and clapped and cheered, causing them to break apart and blush even more. 

Rose slipped off her hoodie and offered it to the very naked John.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the view, I’m just thinking those older women over there are waiting for you to drop your ukulele or bend over accidentally. She tied the hoodie around his waist, covering his front, and laughed as he walked backwards into the TARDIS inn. 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The celebration was winding down, tiki torches lit and the backyard sparkled with twinkle lights decorated through the trees, the inns, and the decks. Rose took two cups of tea outside and looked for John. When she found him, she wordlessly handed him a cup of tea and led them over to the tiny porch of her father’s studio shed, and sat down on the chairs overlooking the festivities. They sipped in companionable silence, appreciating the fruits of their hard work. 

“So...was this a bedroom at one point?” John asked, pointing to the shed.  
“Not exactly, come here, I’ll show you.” Rose pulled John up, and took a key from around her neck and unlocked the door.

Stepping in, she flipped on the light switch. John noticed splashes of bright green on the floor and a packet of pigment concentrate. He raised an eyebrow at Rose who had the decency to look sheepish. 

“I really am sorry, John. That was pretty evil of me.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and avoided looking at him.

“Yeah, it was. But did I mention it was also pretty brilliant?”

Rose laughed in shock.

“No seriously, I wouldn’t have thought of that in a million years. And you know, it’s kind of growing on me!” He poked her in the ribs teasingly. 

“You should paint it the color you want, seriously”

“How about the color we want?” John proposed. Rose sensed there was a deeper implication to his words.

“Better with two then?” Rose asked. 

“Oh yes,” John whispered, having moved closely to Rose. 

He leaned in and kissed her, gently and first and then more intensely. Things quickly grew heated, and Rose found herself and John naked, this time sans ukulele. 

The shed where all the ugliness had started, now became the place where it ended where something beautiful started.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always meant to be.

The crowd gathered at the lake cheered as Rose and John kissed, officially becoming husband and wife. They walked back down the isle and Rose turned to marvel at the archway John had made for them. 

“That was made from the wood from your tree that I cut down.” John rocked back and forth nervously on his feet.

Rose gasped, tears starting to form, and gave him a small kiss. 

“You kept it?” She gave a watery laugh.

“Weeeeell….It was the least I could do after learning I’d destroyed something you loved.” 

She straightened his tie and smiled.

“You big softy…”

He grinned back at her smugly.

“But, is there any chance there’s more wood left?”

“Possibly, I’m not sure...” He titled his head in thought.

“Maybe enough for a cot and a rocking chair?” She smiled again and pulled his hand down to her stomach.

John’s eyes grew wide in shock, and his eyes teared. He pulled Rose in for a big kiss, and lifted her off the ground. 

“Okay, but let’s skip the hot lime nursery, deal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd originally planned a longer and more dramatic arc, but the characters were asking me to put an end to the drama. When your characters talk to you, you have to listen. Thanks for reading!


End file.
